


The Hipster Wedding of the Century 2: The Stoner Gaymo Boogaloo

by Katarin



Series: The Hipster Wedding of the Century [2]
Category: Bandom, Bandom: Chitown Hipsters, Bandom: Panic at the Disco, Bandom: The Young Veins, Hip Hop RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-22
Updated: 2010-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarin/pseuds/Katarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Scimeca plans Jon and Ryan's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hipster Wedding of the Century 2: The Stoner Gaymo Boogaloo

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** Not true, again all my apologies to Nick, De'Mar, Ellen and Kanye

His phone buzzes for the twentieth time since he woke up this morning. It's Kanye, again. _what about this one?_ it asks, and there's an attachment. When he opens it, it's another clothing sample, a shiny jacket with lots of embroidery on the sleeves.

_cool_ he texts back and tries to get back to the website he's supposed to have done by tomorrow.

_&amp; this?_, Kanye texts back. This time it's a picture of a sweet pair of slacks that Nick might actually wear. There's some embroidery down around the cuff of one of the legs, but it's really cool embroidery.

_super sweet_ he texts back.

Over the next four hours, Kanye texts him about 20 more samples as well as three links to design blogs, two to music blogs and sixteen different links to pictures of cute animals. Nick doesn't know how Kanye got his phone number, but ever since the wedding, Kanye's been emailing and texting him almost every day. Nick's been following Kanye's blog for a long time, but it never occurred to him that Kanye's blog was in any way an example of Kanye filtering himself.

The forty texts a day that Nick gets from him tells him otherwise.

"Is that Kanye?" De'Mar asks when Nick's phone goes off for the third time during dinner. It's warmed up enough that they're eating outside almost every day. "If you're cheating on me with Kanye West, the least you can do is have the decency to tell me about it. Be as detailed as possible, maybe you'll convince me not to divorce you."

"You're not going to divorce me," Nick answers while texting Kanye back. "For one, you wouldn't give your dad the satisfaction and for another you'd never get rid of me if there was _any_ chance at all of a potential threesome with Kanye West. Also, I don't know if it's called a divorce when you dissolve a civil union."

De'Mar frowns and Nick stretches out his leg under to table to rest against De'Mar's. He feels like a dork for the way his stomach jumps at De'Mar's smile, but he never can help it. He likes being the reason for that smile.

"He keeps bugging me about helping him out with his fashion show," Nick adds. De'Mar looks up, a confused look on his face.

"What fashion show?" he asks.

"The one he's been designing for." Nick takes a sip of his beer and sits back. "I know I've shown you some of the samples he's been sending me."

"He designed those?" De'Mar asks. "I just figured he wanted your input on what to wear."

Nick nods, sipping his beer. "I am a pretty stylish guy." De'Mar rolls his eye and throws his napkin at Nick's head.

"Grab the check," De'Mar says, while Nick's ducking. "I left my wallet at home."

Nick's leaving a tip for their waiter when De'Mar puts his arm around Nick enough to put his hand in Nick's pocket. "What does he want you to do for a fashion show? Does he want you guys to design a logo or a website?"

Nick frowns at De'Mar's hand in his pocket. They're in public, for fuck's sake. "He wants me to help him with the actual event planning shit." Nick tries to scowl, hoping it will make De'Mar move his hand but he just keeps tapping out the beat of the Latin music their place has been playing almost all week. Nick wouldn't tell anyone else, but the way De'Mar randomly taps out beats without thinking about it is one of Nick's favorite De'Mar quirks. It ranks somewhere ahead of turning the television up way too loud in the morning and behind playing guitar in the mirror. "He liked everything I did for the wedding and said he wanted someone he trusts to help him. It's his baby after all."

"So give him Cheryl's number," De'Mar says while they walk out the door. "She was our wedding planner."

"Hey!" Nick pulls away for real this time, pulling De'Mar's hand out of his pocket. "Cheryl would have been lost without me, don't pretend like I didn't do a lot of the work."

"Okay sure," De'Mar nods and rocks back on his heels while they wait for the light to change. "Name one venue you can get for Kanye's fashion show."

Nick flips De'Mar off and opens his phone to call Cheryl.

\---

The fashion show goes off really well. Nick and De'Mar get VIP tickets and at one point, while they're walking past Kanye, surrounded by a throng of reporters and cameras, Kanye pulls Nick to him. "This is my boy, Nick. He's gone through this with me every step of the way from picking out only the freshest designs to getting this dope runway. I couldn't have done it without him."

Nick smiles at the cameras, ready to somehow plug We Can't Stop Thinking because this is a golden opportunity and he's nothing if not a business genius, but Kanye's not finished. "And he's gay. It's just like I said, these gay guys have the freshest taste and style, which says something about my style if you think about it. I mean, I did have the good taste to get friendly with him in the first place."

Nick swallows hard at Kanye telling the entire world how gay he is but continues to smile while Kanye talks about how Nick had planned his own wedding and manages to plug Nick's design company for him. Nick doesn't actually get to talk the entire time. He just stands there with Kanye's arm over his shoulder and he has to admit, it's pretty sweet.

\---

"So I'm standing there and Kanye has his arm around me," Nick tells Tom, Sean, Ryan and Jon while Jon's packing a bowl for them. Ryan and Jon are in town for a bit "gathering inspiration" before they finish their album and Nick can admit that he's pretty glad to have them around. "He's telling some reporter about what a great eye I have for color and how WCST designed the programs and invitations an-"

"And then he said he felt lucky to have a friend like you," Sean, Tom and Jon all say in bored unison.

"Hey, fuckers, this story was for _Ryan_ because he just got here and doesn't know all about my very close, personal relationship with Kanye West," Nick explains pointing a finger at all of them. "Besides, don't make fun of a man when there's still a decent chance he'll take his weed back."

De'Mar comes in, humming something under his breath before throwing himself down next to Ryan on the couch. "Is he still going on about how close he and Kanye are?" Everyone, Ryan included, nods. "Cool, you know I keep telling him if they're so close he should bring up that threesome idea and he keeps pussying out."

"You can't just _ask_ a dude to have a threesome with you. That's not how it works!" Nick says.

Tom frowns, shaking his head. "Yes you can," he says and Sean nods.

"Okay, you can't just ask a dude for a threesome and not be creepy," Nick clarifies because no way in hell did Conrad or Van Creep just walk up to some guy and ask him to threesome with them in a smooth or uncreepy way. Sean just shrugs, probably because he knows he can't really disagree with that.

"But in the mean time, you're still not hitting it with Kanye?" Jon asks and Nick's cell is ringing so all he can do is flip him off.

"You got Nick," he says, leaning back.

"Mr. Scimeca, this is James Stevenson with Chicago Free Press, I was wondering if you wanted to be the subject of a feature piece we're doing on local gay businessmen?"

Nick blinks because on the one hand he loves press, especially when it's press about WCST but on the other… how did this fucker get his private number? "Umm, this is my private cell, man. Can you maybe call me tomorrow at work? I'm hanging with some friends right now."

"Oh certainly, Mr. Scimeca," John or Jim or whoever says. "But you are interested, right?"

Nick shrugs because he honestly needs more details and specifics before he agrees to anything. "We'll have to talk specifics but in general, I kind of love print, especially when it's about me and my company."

"Wonderful, I'll talk to you later, Mr. Scimeca." It's weird to hear _Mr. Scimeca_ when people aren't talking to or about his dad but he's getting more and more used to it.

"What was that about?" Jon asks when Nick sets down his cell.

"Just a reporter, he wanted to do a story on me," Nick tells him smugly. He has a right to be smug. The Chicago Free Press is a total big deal. He wonders if he can get them to take pictures of him in front of the WCST logo at the office. "That fashion show was such a great idea."

In the corner of his eye he can see Jon and Ryan cuddling closer on the couch and Ryan bend his head to whisper his into Jon's ear. Nick throws a pillow at them. "Hey! The only people allowed to do that kind of gay ass shit in out apartment is us. Got it?" Jon flips Nick off and pulls Ryan's face to his own, kissing him. Nick only watches a bit, but he's pretty sure it's way too late to call No Homo.

\---

The Chicago Free Press isn't the only newspaper interested in him. The next day at work he gets at least 12 calls about doing possible interviews, photo shoots and even a cover spread for several different local magazines, newspapers and a couple of blogs.

"They all want a piece of me, De'Mar," he says with a grin while De'Mar goes through the stack of messages Nick took today.

"Oh dude," De'Mar's eyes light up. "You have to do Red Eye, fuck everything else, let Red Eye interview you."

"Yeah?" Nick asks. "I was thinking about it but… shouldn't I let the gay newspaper have the first interview?"

"But it's fucking _Red Eye_!" De'Mar says, holding up the message.

"Hey now, there's more than enough of me to go around," Nick grins while he says it and De'Mar rolls his eyes.

"There's barely enough of your bony ass as it is," he says and Nick leans into him.

"Don't act like you're not into bony dudes like me. It's just like I like a little more cushion for pushin'," Nick punctuates it by lewdly rocking his hips against De'Mar's a few times and De'Mar rolls his eyes again.

"All I'm saying is that if you don't do an interview with Red Eye I'll never speak to you again," De'Mar tells him.

"… but you'd still listen to me talk, right?" Nick asks. De'Mar walks away and Nick shouts after him, "Right?"

\---

"Well if it isn't Mr. Gaytown Chicago himself," Ryan says the next time Nick shows up at AK while he and Al are mugging for pictures and taking advantage of the discount Nick said they could have. Nick's man enough to admit that that wasn't his brightest move; he might even classify it as a mistake.

"Look on the bright side, Luciani," Nick says, slinging one arm over his shoulder. "This way you have plenty to complain to your mom about." Ryan reaches out to punch him and Nick ducks.

"A toast to the man himself," Al breaks in, raising his glass of discount booze and grinning like he usually reserves for when he's playing some sort of prank on Sean.

"What did you do?" Nick asks, looking around for whatever terrible thing is about to happen to him. It's some thanks, he gives Al Smith a fucking discount at his bar and then Smith has the nerve to punk him while sitting there drinking his $1 PBR.

Al smiles wider, shaking his head. "I'm starting to think you smoking up with Jon so often has turned you paranoid." Nick scowls at him, and Al nods toward a corner booth. All Nick can see is blonde hair sticking up.

"Who's that?" he asks and Al shoves him toward the booth.

"Go fucking find out," Al says.

Nick's heading over when he hears Ryan tell the bartender, "No really, Nick wanted us to order him a couple beers and just hold them for him, we swear!"

He double-takes when he gets to the booth because of all the blondes he thought he might see in his bar, Ellen and Portia DeGeneres didn't immediately spring to mind. "Ellen! Portia!" he says, like an asshole who's never seen a celebrity in his bar before. He shakes his head and holds out his hand like the cool, well-connected hotspot owner that he is. He partied with Jack Bauer once. "Hey, it's been a while."

Ellen and Portia, it turns out, are in Chicago to help out Equality Illinois (which Nick has never heard of before). They're hosting some sort of pre-anniversary party to celebrate being married while also making a name for the gay rights organization in Illinois. Nick nods along while Ellen and Portia explain their plan, wondering what it is they want from him.

"So I was talking to Portia about it on the phone in between commercial breaks," Ellen explains. Nick likes that she gestures with her hands so much. It reminds him of himself. "And I had Kanye as a guest and he said that if I was putting together a party in Chicago I should talk to you about it. Apparently you're the connected and hip guy when it comes to parties in Chicago."

Nick blinks for a second, glad he wasn't drinking anything because he would have just done a spit-take for sure. "Wait… Kanye said that about me?"

Ellen smiles. "Yeah. Well he didn't say you were hip. I don't think actual hip people use words like hip anymore. He said a lot about your style and your connections and what a fresh dresser you are, though."

Nick stares and wonders if he's dreaming or dead or something. Kanye telling people how great he is basically sums up his view of what heaven must be like.

"So will you?" Portia asks and Nick just stares at her because he has no idea what she's talking about. Kanye thinks he dresses well. What else could anyone possibly want him to talk about? "The party, will you help us throw it?"

"Oh! Oh yeah, I can definitely help you with that. I have, you know, someone I usually work with for this stuff but me and her can help you for sure!" He thinks he might be overenthusiastic, but he doesn't really care. Wait until he tells De'Mar about this.

\---

"What's that?" De'Mar asks, reading over Nick's shoulder. He's eating cereal. It's crunchy cereal and Nick knows that because he can hear it crunching directly in his ear.

"It's the guest list to Ellen and Portia's party," he says, leaning forward. "Can you go do that somewhere else? What if you spill milk on the party stuff?"

De'Mar just puts his arm around Nick's waist, like that's going to stop Nick from complaining, and keeps looking at the list. "Why are so many of our friends on their guest list?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nick says, as innocently as possible. "They wanted to invite big names in Chicago. Ashlee and Pete are obvious choices."

"Yeah but it doesn't explain why Al and the Looch are on it, or Nate or... you're inviting Jon and Ryan Ross?" Nick knows without turning his head that De'Mar is looking at him like he's done something crazy. Nick doesn't understand why he makes those faces but for some reason he keeps doing it.

"They're musicians, influential musicians that-"

"Dude, your entire staff is on that guest list, aren't they?" De'Mar asks. "Along with like, half the people we know?"

"_No_," he says, trying to sound offended. De'Mar raises an eyebrow at him. Nick looks away, shuffling some papers around like they're important. He can still feel De'Mar looking at him in disbelief. "I know a _lot_ of people, De'Mar. I couldn't invite them _all_." De'Mar leans in then, pressing his lips to Nick's cheek in a milky kiss. "Ewww! Hey! Keep that udder excretion away from me!" Nick wipes at his face, trying to get the milk residue off.

De'Mar rolls his eyes. "You've been a vegan for what, two weeks? Don't get high and mighty with me," he says.

"You know you're drinking something that was meant for babies, right? You've stolen from babies who've been taken and turned into veal," Nick tells him. De'Mar tips his bowl back to slurp up the leftover milk in his bowl.

"Mmmmmm," he says. Nick flips him off.

\---

"Did you pick out this cake?" Jon asks, again, the next time Nick sees him.

"For the third time, yeah, I picked out the cake," Nick answers, shaking his head. Ryan walks up and slings his arm around Jon's shoulders, leaning in to eat the cake Jon's holding in his hand. "You guys!" Nick says, sighing. "It's really bad form to smoke up before someone else's party and then show up with the munchies. How much fucking cake have you had?"

"Jon's only had a couple of pieces," Ryan says, blinking at Nick in that creepy way he has. He has one of his fingers hooked in Jon's belt loops, and his hands look so weird and alien that Nick has to look away.

"And you?" Nick asks because Ryan didn't really answer the question.

"I only had... a couple? And some of Jon's.

Nick throws his hands in the air."This is how you repay me for getting you in to this party?" Nick asks but Ryan is pointing over his shoulder.

"Is that Kanye?" he asks and Nick nearly hurts himself turning his head in the direction Ryan is pointing at. Sure enough, it's Kanye, standing with a drink and staring bewilderedly at Sean. Nick wonders if it would be possible to pull Kanye away without acknowledging that he knows Sean.

He's in the middle of trying to coax Kanye away with some sweet dance moves when Sean sees him. "Nick!" he says, waving. "I was talking to Kanye here about songwriting. Apparently our process is kind of similar. He sort of locks himself away to get the barebones of a song at first too!"

Sean smiles sweetly at him and Nick tries to imagine Kanye's process being anything like hanging out in his bedroom with an old laptop and a cheap microphone until he has enough music and creepy lyrics to bring to his band and immediately gives up. Sean's still smiling though so Nick just nods. "Sure it is, Sean," he says. "I'm gonna borrow Kanye for a few, okay?" He pulls Kanye away before Sean can say anything, and he knows Kanye will thank him later. He just hopes that thanking involves blowjobs and De'Mar.

"Mr. Scimeca?" Some acne-faced kid in a waiter's jacket says, tugging at Nick's sleeve before Nick can even suggest anything to Kanye.

"What?" he asks, turning.

"There's kind of an emergency in the kitchen, sir. Someone used chicken stock for half of the recipes because they didn't know it was a vegetarian event and... they just sent me out here to get you." It's supremely unfair that Nick is getting called away right now. He waves goodbye to Kanye and follows the kid to the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Ryan moving in to talk to Kanye.

His discount is canceled.

\---

It's stupid early on a Saturday, and Nick's phone is ringing. He has no idea who the fuck would be calling him this early so he doesn't answer. Then it rings again, and again, and again. "The offices had better be burning down," he grumbles into the phone, reaching out for De'Mar without opening his eyes. Then he remembers that De'Mar's on tour again and that that's part of why he's so hungover this morning. He snatches his hand back and stops thinking about De'Mar being gone because he has someone to bitch out on the phone; he doesn't have time for sad shit.

"Nick! Nick, I have such great news!" It's Jon fucking Walker. How he sounds this happy at such an ungodly hour is completely beyond him.

"Walker, it's seven AM," he says. "Why the fuck would you be calling me at seven AM?"

There's silence for a second and then Jon laughs. "Oh, I didn't notice the time. Me and Ryan didn't really go to sleep last night; we were kind of busy with-"

"Not that I don't love hearing about all of the sex my friends are having when I'm, you know, not, but I really fucking don't want to hear about all of the sex you and Ryan are having when I'm in the middle of a three month dry-spell."

"No, well yeah, that's basically what we were doing but there's a really specific reason!" Jon seems really determined to talk to Nick about his sex life and Nick's starting to realize that he doesn't have the energy (at seven AM) to argue. Maybe he can fall back to sleep without Jon noticing. He makes an encouraging noise and he can almost hear Jon smile on the other end of the line.

"Ryan asked me to marry him!" Jon says and Nick shakes his head.

"Wait, what?" he asks because he had to have heard that wrong.

"Last night when we came back from that party with all the great cake. He proposed and I said yes! That's why all the sex, we were celebrating."

Nick rolls his eyes. "Jon, I mean this with love but you are so, so fucking high right now." He hangs up and buries his head in his pillow. He'd been dreaming about De'Mar sucking his cock while they were on a free trip to Cancun; maybe he can get the dream back.

\---

He wakes up for real around noon, and while he's waiting in line at Starbucks for his vanilla soy latte he remembers the conversation with Jon. He has to check his phone to make sure it wasn't just some sort of weird dream but sure enough, his phone tells him he got four calls from Jon Walker this morning. He wonders, briefly, just what Jon was on when he said all of that.

On the way home, he's sipping his latte and thinking about how nice it is outside when he sees Ryan and Jon up ahead, sitting on the steps outside of his place. He blinks because he really expected it to take longer for Jon to sleep it off.

"Afternoon, sunshine," he says to Jon, expecting him to groan and flip him off. He's brought up short when Jon doesn't have his typical 'day-after' look. There's no squinting, no head rubbing. Instead he's beaming with a huge smile on his face and his hand in Ryan's. He keeps looking at Ryan and Ryan keeps smiling at him before ducking his head like he's embarrassed. "Dude, what the fuck?" They're acting weird.

Jon just grins. "We dropped by for a bit to talk about the wedding. We can't stay long because we're going out to the burbs for dinner with my folks." It's sort of eerie how Jon won't quit fucking grinning.

"They're really excited about the engagement," Ryan tells him, shrugging and tugging at his sleeve.

"Wait, that shit was for real?" Nick asks, because dude.

"Of course," Jon says, sounding hurt. "Why do you think I called you this morning?"

"I honestly thought you were on acid or something. It's not the weirdest thing you've said to me while tripping." It really isn't. Jon sees the weirdest shit when he's tripping.

Jon looks like he's going to argue, but Ryan is nodding. "Once you called me up to tell me that you were an octopus. It was two AM," Ryan says, smiling. He pulls Jon a bit closer and Jon tips his face up. They kiss like that, with Jon looking up at Ryan with the dumbest look on his face. Nick's kind of disgusted.

"So... what do you want me to do?" he asks, pointedly not watching them make out.

"Plan our wedding," Ryan says, looking up from Jon.

"Yeah, you did such a good job with your wedding and Kanye's fashion show and then the other night, Ellen and Portia's anniversary party was really great. So we want you to do that for us." Jon looks at him hopefully, and Nick's reminded of when Jon tried out to be in 5o4 Plan, strumming at his bass with the same hopeful smile.

Nick can realize he's getting soft in his advanced age. It doesn't stop him from shrugging and saying, "Okay, sure."

\---

Jon and Ryan suck at this, and Nick regrets ever agreeing to help them. He'd assumed planning a wedding for two laid-back stoners would be easy. Neither of them are all that high-maintenance and their both pretty agreeable under usual circumstances. The problem is that the usual circumstances tend to be Nick telling them where he wants to go for dinner or for a drink and the two of them shrugging and agreeing. That doesn't work out nearly as well when he's asking them shit like, "Where do you want the wedding to be?"

"Huh, I don't really know. Chicago, I guess," Ryan says, looking to Jon.

"Yeah, Chicago would be cool but we could have it in Vegas if you want, my parents and brothers can fly out and stuff," Jon tells him.

"Oh yeah, I wouldn't say no to Vegas but we can do it in Chicago if you want." And on and on and on.

"Let's do something basic," Nick tries, taking a deep breath and taking another bite of his delicious vegan spring rolls. If nothing else about this weird little lunch meeting, at least it won't have been a total loss because Ryan and Jon are paying. "What are some things you definitely want for the wedding. Colors, location, theme, cake... anything at all."

Jon looks thoughtful for a second before looking at Ryan. "Maybe a Great Gatsby theme?" Ryan asks.

"I'd like to wear my flip-flops and for it to not be too dressy," Jon says. "Oh and there's got to be lots of photographs."

"Chocolate cake is really delicious," Ryan says at the same time Jon says "Vanilla cake is traditional, right?"

"Maybe just the 30's in general and not Gatsby in particular?" Ryan looks away like he's trying to imagine it. "A lot of flowers would be really great though. Pretty ones that people can take home afterwards, like the centerpieces."

"We could do chocolate though, I like chocolate."

"Yeah but vanilla cake would be good too. Oh, or strawberry or something like banana."

"We should put Marley in a tux and have him be the ring-bearer," Jon says. "Maybe get Dylan and Clover in on it somehow."

"An open bar," they both say at the same time, which as far as Nick is concerned is the most important item on the list.

\---

After that he tries asking them about things separately and over the phone so if they get too infuriating, he can just hang up. And after two separate conversations that were made up almost entirely of twenty minutes minimum of "I don't really know what kind of cake we should get. Ryan was talking about bananas and peanut butter and that would be hilarious. That might be the weed talking though." and "Well, Jon really likes vanilla and I like it too so... What's that? Oh, Alex is wondering if there's any way to make it a combination? Like banana and vanilla and strawberry or something?"

Nick hangs up on Jon three times. He hangs up on Ryan at least seven. He doesn't think Jon is any less impossible to talk to; it's just that he has a lot more experience dealing with him.

He meets them for dinner a few weeks later. They're late, as usual. They've just flown in from LA because they're working on their album there. Nick's a bit pissed before they show up because they promised to pay. "So here's the thing," he says, setting down a legal pad with a bunch of notes on it. "You two can't make decisions. I'm sure it's really great to make music this way, all go-with-the-flow-and-just-let-it-happen, or not, given that you've both just left an incredibly successful band, but that's not really the point. The point is that I'm going to make some executive decisions. The first being, you're not having a Gatsby themed wedding." He holds his hand up when Ryan tries to complain. "You're not having any theme for your wedding."

"This is our wedding," Ryan argues. Nick rolls his eyes.

"You asked me to plan it. I'm assuming it's because you know I have such great taste," Nick tells him. Jon laughs, turning away to guffaw rudely into Ryan's shoulder. "Fuck you, Walker. I have _great_ taste. Just ask Kanye West. My wedding was awesome and classy and still a hell of a party."

Ryan looks like he might try to argue but Jon puts his hand on his arm to stop him. "Okay, Nick," Jon says. "No theme wedding."

Nick takes another bite of his vegan gazpacho before turning to Jon. "No theme wedding and your pets stay the fuck at home."

"What? But Pete had-"

"Are you really trying to justify something by saying 'Pete did it'?" he asks, surprised. "Because seriously, it's Pete. No pets, no pet tuxedos."

Jon pokes sullenly at his tofu steak and Nick doesn't let him guilt him with that sad face. "Also, there's no way I'm going to some bakery and asking them for a peanut butter and banana cake and that goes double for any other weird combinations. Got it?" Ryan and Jon nod, and Nick grins. "I already feel better about this whole wedding thing."

\---

Nick sets up a cake tasting so they can decide what kind they want. He tells them the time and date at least three times, texts it to them twice and even tweets it to them half an hour before their appointment. They're still fifteen minutes late. To make matters worse, they show up with their hair messed up, clothing askew and the glazed look in their eyes that means they were definitely smoking up. Nick doesn't have an issue with that; he's friends with Ryan Luciani for fuck's sake, and it isn't like Jon and Ryan's default setting isn't _high as a kite or well on the way to being there_ anyway.

The problem is that they've smoked up just enough that they've got the munchies in the worst way, which makes cake tasting really, really pointless. "I'd say I can't believe you guys, but that's a complete lie," he says, rolling his eyes. "Do you guys have any opinions on any of those cakes?"

Jon's settled against Ryan's side, arm around his waist and one hand in Ryan's pocket. "They were really good?"

"Really, really fucking good," Ryan agrees

Nick laughs. "Yeah, let's go play Frisbee in the park."

\---

"Jon," he sighs into the phone. "Jon can you tell me why my friend Juan called me this morning to ask why you missed your meal tasting?"

"We had a meal tasting?" Jon asks and Nick can hear the twang of a guitar in the background. Jon's working which means this conversation will be twice as pointless as usual. He sighs again and briefly wonders if he sounds like Cheryl before pressing on.

"Yes, it's your third one this week. I was going to ask which one you guys liked best today. I put this on your schedule on your iPhone last week."

"Oh umm, me and Ryan really liked them. The food was really great and everyone who served us was so nice," Jon tells him, vague and useless yet again. Nick's glad they keep liquor at the office.

"Did you guys at least send me your flower choices?" he asks because it's a pretty simple form, just marking next to pictures of flowers. Even Ryan and Jon couldn't fuck that up.

"Oh yeah! I sent it this morning," Jon says and Nick can hear him smiling. It makes him smile too and he's reminded of why he's doing this little favor for Jon and Ryan Ross. "Me and Ryan had a blast picking them out last night."

Nick makes a non-committal _hmmm_ sound and opens up his email. Sure enough, there's an email from Jon with an attachment. He downloads it and when it opens he's taken aback for a second by all of the boxes that have been checked. "Jon, how many different kinds of flowers did you two pick?" he asks.

"Just a few dozen. We liked a lot of different flowers and we want them to look good together," Jon answers. "We figured you'd be happy about us making decisions and stuff."

Nick hangs up on him. He spends the rest of the day looking at old pictures of when he and Jon were in 5o4 Plan together to remind himself why he can't tell one of his oldest friends to take his wedding and shove it.

\---

Jon and Ryan stop returning his calls when they start finalizing their album. They seem to have relocated to LA for the duration and Nick can't say he cares much because De'Mar's finally home from tour. "You missed me," he says, pulling De'Mar into their apartment. He hears De'Mar's suitcase hit the floor and the door close, and he's glad De'Mar remembered because he's way too busy trying to get De'Mar's clothes off to have bothered. "Admit it, you missed me so much, all of your days were less awesome without me." He cuts off whatever De'Mar's going to say with a deep kiss, and De'Mar pulls him closer. "You thought about me every day," Nick continues, between kisses. "Every hour. You couldn't stop thinking about me."

De'Mar shoves him into their bedroom and Nick lets him. He stretches out on his back while De'Mar pulls his clothes off, spreads his thighs when De'Mar joins him on the bed. "It fucking hurt being away from me for so long. Real fucking pain, like you'd lost a limb or something, like a part of you was gone and even knowing it was going to come back didn't make it feel any better. You can admit it, I won't judge you." Nick tips his face up and De'Mar leans in, cupping his face and kissing him, soft as he can.

"Yeah," De'Mar says, voice low. "You got me, that's exactly what I was like, every part of it."

"They're complete amateurs," Nick says afterwards, when he's on his side and De'Mar's half asleep. He's got that pleasant ache of the freshly fucked, and he stretches a bit, just so he can feel the inevitable twinge in his back and thigh muscles. It's not right that he has to go through these kinds of dry spells; he's married for fuck's sake.

"Huh?" De'Mar asks and Nick reaches out to run his fingers over De'Mar's chest.

"Jon and Ryan, they have no idea what they're doing."

"Aren't you an amateur?" De'Mar asks, clearly more awake than he was a second ago. "I mean, literally. It's not like you get paid for this shit."

Nick pinches De'Mar's nipple as hard as he can. "Ow! What the _fuck_, man!" De'Mar shouts and Nick rolls onto his back

"They're even more amateur than I am," he says, rolling his eyes. "They can't make decisions to save their fucking lives and as of this moment I basically have "no themes and an open bar" as the only definites for the damn thing."

"Yeah but you knew they'd be like that going in, right?" De'Mar asks, turning onto his side and pushing into Nick's space. Nick glares at him, but there isn't really a point because it's dark in the bedroom. "No seriously, Nick. It's not like you expected Jon and Ryan to suddenly become the type of guys who make decisions and express their ideas like regular people is it? Because it's Jon and Ryan, that's just not who they are."

Nick's quiet for a few minutes, and De'Mar sighs. "You totally expected them to make decisions, didn't you?" he asks.

"No," Nick says petulantly because maybe he did, but De'Mar can't fucking prove it.

De'Mar sighs. "Go to bed, Nick," he says, kissing his cheek. Nick turns so his back is to De'Mar's front and De'Mar gets the idea, spooning him with a low chuckle. It doesn't take long for Nick to fall asleep.

\---

He's still thinking about what De'Mar said the next day at work. He plays around with his Pantone color guide for a few hours in the morning and then emails Jon and Ryan with a couple of different color schemes. They all match their flower choices and to the best of Nick's knowledge are in line with their sense of aesthetics. _pick one, email it back to me_ he says and includes a small color bar of each attached to the email.

_me and Ryan like the one that looks like fall_ Jon emails back and just that easily, they have a color scheme. Nick's feeling better already. He sure as hell isn't going to give the credit to De'Mar though.

\---

"Are we missing some flowers?" Jon asks, looking over the assortment in the florist's fridge. Ryan presses his face to the glass and nods.

"He's right, some of the flowers we wanted for the tables aren't here," Ryan says, looking back at Nick.

"They didn't match your color scheme. Besides, this way it's less than a dozen different types so you can get more and stay in your budget," Nick says.

"We have a budget?" Jon asks. Nick shakes his head and fills out the order form for the flowers.

The florist wraps a loose collection of their chosen flowers in some dark ribbon and Nick grabs it with a smile. "Of course you do. You're not made of money, Walker, no matter what you might want to think. Don't worry though; this is why you've got me.

"What are those for?" Ryan asks, nodding at the small bouquet of flowers Nick's carrying out the door.

"Comparison and stuff. You guys wanted a lot of flowers, so I'll plan around them," Nick says with a smile because it's sort of true. It's also true that he's got some clients coming in the office tomorrow that he wants to impress and that in general, flowers make the office look pretty. Ryan and Jon don't complain or even ask questions after that. Nick pats himself on the back.

\---

_meet me @ Sushi Wabi in 20_ Nick texts De'Mar while shutting down his computer for the night.

_big spender. c u there_ De'Mar texts back and Nick.

He's already there by the time Nick shows up, and Nick curses traffic and Shawn wanting to talk his ear off for what felt like hours that De'Mar beat him here.

"We're here for the tasting," Nick tells the hostess, ignoring De'Mar's look of confusion. She leads them back to a private table, and Nick's lucky that they start bringing courses right away.

"Nick, what the fuck is going on?" De'Mar asks, when their waiter explains exactly what's on their plates and how it's made.

"It's a tasting, I know you know how these things go," Nick answers.

"Yeah, but that was when we were getting married. And we're not. We already did." It doesn't stop De'Mar from taking a bite of his tempura vegetables, though, which Nick was counting on.

"Are you saying you wouldn't marry me again?" he asks and he's surprised by how affronted he is. "That's bullshit. You loved our wedding and you'd be lost without me."

"Of course," De'Mar answers, reaching out to rest his hand over Nick's. "And I'm looking forward to renewing our vows when we're fifty, but that doesn't change the fact that we shouldn't be here for any tastings since we're already married."

"It's for Jon and Ryan's wedding." Nick takes a nice big bite of his tempura. It's not the best he's had but it's pretty fucking good. He could stand to get more for free at the wedding.

"Then why are _we_ eating it?" De'Mar asks like he really doesn't want to know.

"Because Jon and Ryan can't be trusted to make decisions about weddings, De'Mar. I'll make a decision and run it by them, it'll be great."

De'Mar shakes his head. "I'm serious," Nick says. "Besides, in the meantime-" he points to the table "-free dinners!"

\---

Nick wanders into the living room while De'Mar's idly strumming his guitar on the couch. He's looking for his copy of _Elements of Color_ and munching on a cookie. "What are you doing?"De'Mar asks. The strumming stops so Nick assumes he's actually curious.

"I can't find my _Elements of Color_," he says, shoving the rest of his cookie in his mouth so he can get down on all fours and see if it's under the couch.

"What the hell are you eating? We don't have any more of those vegan cookies. You ate them all, De'Mar says and Nick shrugs and turns around to survey the rest of the room, trying to remember where he left the book. "No seriously, what are you eating?"

"Jon and Ryan's wedding favors. I'm trying to decide which vegan friendly recipe I like best. Did you see me with it the other night? I know I was in here with it."

"You actually put it away on the shelf in your office. You made a big spectacle of doing it right," De'Mar tells him and follows Nick out of the room when he goes to grab it. "Why are you picking out Jon and Ryan's wedding favors?"

"Have you not been paying attention to every single thing I've told you about planning this nightmare wedding?" Nick replies, grabbing his book off the shelf. He knows he's talked about it at length. He knows because the other day De'Mar fucked him from behind with his hand held tight over Nick's mouth so Nick would "shut the fuck up about the damn wedding." It had been hot. Nick came like three times.

"You're seriously making all of these decisions for them?" De'Mar looks like he can't believe what Nick is saying, which is kind of ridiculous considering De'Mar knows Nick and has known him for years.

"Why do you think they hired me?" Nick asks. De'Mar walks away. "No seriously!" Nick follows after him. "Jon and Ryan wouldn't have hired someone like me if they didn't expect me to take over for them!"

\---

Nick doesn't cry at their wedding. He knows he doesn't cry because Mama Walker is up front really turning on the waterworks, and her husband isn't far behind her. Nick lets out a few manly sniffles and wipes at his eyes in a very macho way with the tissue that Brendon loans him. "Totally macho," De'Mar says afterwards after his third PBR. Nick knows that tone in his voice though. That's De'Mar's making-fun-of-Nick voice.

"I'm a fountain of masculinity," Nick says and De'Mar starts laughing.

"Fuck you!" Nick says, flipping him off. De'Mar cups his cheek and tips his face up for a kiss.

When they meet up again with Jon and Ryan, Jon's grin is bigger than Nick's ever seen it.

"Nick!" Jon says, throwing his arms around him. "This is... Nick this is the best day of my life. Thanks, man. Thank you so much." Nick hugs him back, and it's crazy to think this is the same Jon Walker whose shitty band used to open for 5o4 Plan, the same Jon Walker that used to shove his smelly ass feet in Nick's face on long van trips while they toured.

"I'm glad I could make it happen for you, man." Nick squeezes Jon tight and has another manly sniffle. He has to wait to congratulate Ryan because Kanye's deep in conversation with him about clothes.

"Tell me more about paisley," Kanye says and Nick thinks this is probably a good time to interrupt.

"Hey, Ryan, congratulations. Way to make an honest man out of Jon," he says, holding out his hand. Ryan looks down at it and then back up at Nick and for just a second, he envelopes him in a hug. It's weird, all spindly arms and Ryan's creepy ass fingers gripping tight to the back of Nick's jacket. Nick hugs back though, because this is Jon's husband. Fuck, Ryan is practically family now.

"This was perfect," he says, so low that Nick doubts anyone else can hear it. "Jon's so happy with it and... it's a lot better than I ever thought my wedding would be."

"I have a gift," Nick tells him, nodding. "I make parties happen. I make ordinary events special."

"Did you just call me and Jon ordinary?" Ryan asks and Nick shrugs.

"I call 'em like I see 'em, Ryan."

"Let's go get some cake," De'Mar breaks in, grabbing Nick's arm and dragging him away. "You never know how to just let a nice moment happen, do you?" De'Mar knows the answer to that, so Nick just concentrates on getting his slice of cake and flagging down someone on the wait staff to bring him another beer.

"So I heard you planned all of this," someone says after Nick's lost count of how many beers he's had. Nick turns his head to find none other than Spencer Smith.

"Guilty!" he tells him, lifting his bottle to him. He has no idea where De'Mar got off to, which is a shame. If he's this drunk, he should be getting laid.

"I can't believe you planned a wedding for Ryan Ross and Jon Walker," Spencer shakes his head. "Wasn't it kind of impossible? Weren't they kind of impossible?"

"Pfft," Nick scoffs. "The trick to working with Ryan and Jon is that you have to let them know whose boss. And the answer to that is the person who has taste and is a genius." Spencer looks skeptical so Nick leans in. "That's me."

Spencer laughs. "Yeah, clearly," he says, shaking his head. "Seriously though, thanks for making this great for them. They really love each other and they deserve this."

"You're a sweet guy, aren't you?" Nick asks

"Oh fuck you," Spencer says, shoving him and walking away. "You're the one who cried during the vows!" Nick ignores him, grabs another beer and goes to look for De'Mar.

\---

Nick wakes up and wants to die. He has a splitting headache and his mouth tastes like something died in it. He can hear De'Mar groaning in the bathroom and the sound of an aspirin bottle. "Bring me some," he asks or at least tries. He gets as far as "br" before the sound of his own voice is so painful to his ears that he can't handle it anymore. De'Mar brings him some anyway along with a glass of water. His husband is the greatest man alive. He takes the pills and lies in bed for a few more minutes until there's a thump downstairs.

De'Mar's in the shower so Nick has to slowly creep out of his bedroom to find out the fuck it was. He finds Kanye sitting at their kitchen table, buttering a piece of toast and checking something on his iPhone.

"Kanye," he says, like an asshole because his head is still pounding and Kanye fucking West is eating toast at his table.

"Hey," Kanye says, nodding. "I just want to thank you both for last night."

Nick stops breathing. He's sure of it. This is no way Kanye is saying what Nick thinks he's saying. Even his life isn't that awesome.

"I mean it, Nick. You and De'Mar, y'all are righteous guys and I appreciate all of it." He smiles at Nick, and Nick stands there blinking.

"Umm," he says because he has no idea how to ask, "Did we get our threesome and I'm not able to remember? Because I deserve a do-over!"

" Whose watch is this?" De'Mar asks, coming down the stairs already dressed and carrying the nicest fucking watch Nick has ever seen.

"Oh I was wondering where that went," Kanye says, reaching out for it. De'Mar hands it over silently. They both stand there, staring at Kanye for a second before turning to each other and trying to ask silent questions using only their facial expressions. There's a reason him and De'Mar always lose at fucking Charades.

"Hate to eat and run but I've got some meetings today with suppliers and I really can't be late." Kanye stands up and drapes his coat over his arm. "I already told Nick this, but I want you to know that I appreciated last night a lot. I feel like a doper person already, man." He reaches out, first to De'Mar and then to Nick and squeezes their shoulders in what feels to Nick like a significant way. Then he's gone.

"Dude, what the fuck happened last night?" Nick asks, sitting down with a thud. If he can't remember, maybe he can live vicariously through De'Mar. He hopes they ran a train on him.

"You don't remember?" De'Mar asks, and when Nick shakes his head, he leans against the counter. "Fuck, me neither. I blacked the fuck _out_ last night. I was hoping you could tell me why Kanye was in our kitchen."

"Do you think we hit it?" he asks. Nick shrugs. "We should totally tell our friends that we hit it with him."

"Oh, of fucking course, man. We're making phone calls as soon as I brush my teeth and shower. I might take an ad out in the Red Eye."

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to The Hipster Wedding of the Century. Written for marksykins as part of Sweet Charity. Sorry it's so late. Huge Thanks to my beta cool_rain_kiss and to riorhapsody, without whom this wouldn't have been written.


End file.
